Although I’d always been interested in the arts, I never even considered “sculpting” until I took an elective in sculpture my freshman year at Georgetown University. In that class I began working with Leonard Cave doing abstract wood carvings. That whim soon grew into a Fine Arts major. After graduation sculpture seemed to take a back seat as I tried to survive life after college. After several job tries, I began working for a home builder in my native Rhode Island. At virtually the same time I took a course in advanced sculpture with Richard Calabro at the University of Rhode Island. In an instant my sculpture turned from cerebral subtractive carvings to conceptual constructions that seemed to spring out of my vocation as a carpenter. As all good teachers do, Richard set creative forces in motion, the effects of which still dominate me today.

My latest sculptures involve plane and plain geometry. Most of my pieces also entail a nonsensical mathematical formula, meaning that there is very specific measured thought that goes into each piece, but the sculpture itself is the only resolution to the equation. In some pieces that thought is more subtle than others. The formula can be as plain as assembling a group of six 30º/60º/90º wedges so that together they form a semi-circular shape. The formulas are as real or as abstract as those found in building construction, such as the abstract notion of placing studs every 16 in. in a wall.

Inspired by an exhibit I saw during a visit to NYC in the early 1980s, I introduced glass into my pieces. To keep the forms simple I deal entirely with clear smooth glass in rectilinear shapes. With its reflective and refractive qualities, glass essentially creates a fourth dimension. And by placing it in context with wood and other materials, glass creates an ironic juxtaposition between its strength and fragility.

During the course I took at URI, I introduced wedges into one of my projects. Richard then asked me to focus on wedges by themselves. As a result I started looking at wedges in an ironic sense: tying things together instead of splitting them apart. The most obvious structures that join things together are bridges. Bridges then became a personal obsession, especially those that employ wedge shapes. For me driving through an overpass, with wedge-shaped land on either side or with angles formed by the roadway itself, is a sculptural experience. Bridges that blatantly exploit the forces of tension and compression as well take the experience to new heights.